I am lost in the white sheets again
I have a fantasy from New York to Prague
No wonder I wake up like a bug
Every morning with a question.
Passion—I do not find it.
Obsession-- in abundance.
Love—I cannot fall again.
Fear—it is my guide, it is my foe.
Poetry—it is my faith, it is my hope.
Outside my window
The sparrows are chirping like in spring
And it’s going to snow tonight.
I am not the only one confused.
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